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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882545">i want your midnights</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eg1701/pseuds/eg1701'>eg1701</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>90s reddie for the soul [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (1990)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:47:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,635</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882545</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eg1701/pseuds/eg1701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Richie and Eddie are fairly happy to leave 1990 behind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>90s reddie for the soul [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800730</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i want your midnights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title from taylor swift's new year's day!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Though the studio party would last well into the night, Richie had made a hundred excuses why he and Eddie couldn’t stay, and just had to be home before midnight. There had been several Cinderella jokes, which he’s laughed about, but the truth was that 1990 had been an incredibly tough year. And he wanted it to end at home, with just Eddie.</p>
<p>“You’re a real kept man now,” Anna had teased him on the way out and Richie had laughed. Maybe that was true in a way. She knew that Richie’s inability to stay with someone for longer than about two months had begun to seriously bother him the past two years. And she knew he had the intention to stay with Eddie for the rest of his life. He had told her as much when he’d first introduced her to Eddie, “It suits you. Even if it’s disgustingly sweet.”</p>
<p>But they’d made their way home and changed, Eddie put on the news, and they settled down on the sofa. </p>
<p>The TV was broadcasting Times Square in New York, but it was barely audible. Eddie kept drifting off on his shoulder, jolting awake and promising Richie he was up. The lights in the house were all off-- Richie couldn't blame him for being sleepy-- and even outside seemed to be holding its breath, like the ball might drop, and Richie would wake up in January again. Derry wouldn’t have happened yet. He wouldn’t be able to even tell you Eddie’s name, much less anything about him. </p>
<p>It was a different feel, then the past New Year’s Eves. Several of which Richie had been almost too drunk to remember, and wouldn’t get home until well into New Year’s Day anyway. This one mattered.</p>
<p>This felt incredibly intimate. New Year’s Eve was a holiday for lovers. Someone had told him that once. He remembered his parents sharing a bottle of champagne after he’d fallen asleep on the sofa. He could never make it to midnight when he was really little, but his mother and father would let him fall asleep in the living room anyway.</p>
<p>“I, for one, am going to be glad free of this year,” Richie said. Two young women on the TV were talking. Richie figured they’d probably been asked about their resolutions. Or maybe what they hoped ‘91 would bring.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly, “My New Year’s resolution is to go the whole year without almost getting killed.”</p>
<p>“<i>Eds</i>.”</p>
<p>“I’m just kidding Rich,” he put a hand on Richie’s arm gently, “I am beginning to understand why you’re always making jokes.”</p>
<p>“Mm,” Richie replied, noncommittal. He put an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “I’ve had worse years though Eds.”</p>
<p>“I suppose I have as well,” Eddie replied, and Richie thought he was really thinking his life over. The end of the year had such a strange affect on people. You had to acknowledge the passing of time, in a way you normally could avoid, “Besides, I suppose I got you out of the deal. Twenty seven years late but still.”</p>
<p>“Well we’re just making up for it is all. We’ve got a whole year ahead of us. It <i>has</i> to be a good year.”</p>
<p>Richie found that he meant it, even though that might not be true. There were lots of good things coming up sure. Ben and Bev’s baby. New job opportunities. Holidays and weekends with the Losers. Eddie in his bed every morning. These were things he had to look forward to but there were also things like Sonia, who still clung to the outskirts of their lives, no matter how hard Richie tried to shake her off. Like the fact that maybe some people wouldn’t like him so much if they found out Eddie was more than just his friend. </p>
<p>He shook his head slightly. It wasn’t worth thinking about it now.</p>
<p>“What’s your real New Year’s resolution?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Oh I don’t know,” Eddie sighed. Again, Richie was amazed at how <i>perfectly</i> they fit together, “I hadn’t really come up with one. Drink less coffee maybe. It’s not very good for you.”</p>
<p>“You’re a braver man than I am if that’s your plan.”</p>
<p>“Well what about you?”</p>
<p>“I’d like to land a really solid role. Something recurring would be nice. I feel kind of stuck.”</p>
<p>“I’d hire you honey,” Eddie stifled a yawn, “If I was the casting director. I’d say, you see that man? He’s perfect. I’m going to make him a star.”</p>
<p>“Well what are you fooling around <i>here</i> for? Go get a casting director job.”</p>
<p>“Can it wait until the morning? I’m awfully comfortable here.”</p>
<p>Richie sighed, “I guess so.”</p>
<p>“You’re quiet,” Eddie said, “What’s up?”</p>
<p>“I’m just thinking about the year. About time. Hell if I know,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “Doesn’t matter.”</p>
<p>“Sure it does.”</p>
<p>“It’s just, I don’t know. It’s the end of the year. You think about where you were in January. Where you are now. Where you might be this time next year, when it’s 1992 staring us in the face.”</p>
<p>“Well I’d like to be right here,” Eddie said softly, “Maybe on a new sofa. This one is a little beat up.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Richie nodded, “Me too. I don’t- I love you.”</p>
<p>“I love you too,” Eddie pulled back slightly, to look at him, frowning. Richie could just make his look out in the dim light from the screen, “What’s going on?”</p>
<p>“I think I’m just thinking about time. How long we wasted-”</p>
<p>“Richie we didn’t <i>waste</i> it,” Eddie shook his head. He took one of Richie’s hands and held it, tight, “I mean, what were we supposed to do? We couldn’t remember. It’s not anybody’s fault. God’s maybe. Derry’s. I don’t know if there’s anybody to lay the blame on.”</p>
<p>“I was thinking. What if we’d run into each other. In New York. It could have happened.”</p>
<p>“I suppose that’s true. It seems unlikely. New York is a big city. You can’t be upset that we never ran into each other in the past thirty years. The odds of that were slim. What is it you’re really upset about? Promise you can tell me.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think I’m <i>upset</i> I’m just wondering when this is all going to end.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Eddie asked quickly, “End?”</p>
<p>“Why should I get what I want?”</p>
<p>“Oh Richie honey,” Eddie said softly. He pulled Richie against him carefully, “It’s not going to end. You just won’t be able to get rid of me. That’s all. Clearly, I think you aren’t able to get rid of me.”</p>
<p>Richie nodded. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Eddie because he did. Eddie wouldn't lie to him about this. </p>
<p>“I’m just thinkin’ about other New Year’s Eves I suppose,” he said, by way of explanation. He was pretty sure it was true, and he was pretty sure Eddie would accept it as such, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll come up with a joke in a second.”</p>
<p>“Funny man,” Eddie muttered, and kissed Richie’s forehead, “Look, I know that things until very recently were not easy. I know that. And I need you to know that it’s going to be better now. I think I am just going to have to love you until you believe it. And then I’ll just have to keep doing it. Because I love you. I think that maybe I always have, even when I couldn’t remember who you were. I know that’s a little romantic even for me, but I think it’s maybe the truth. Maybe I’d just like to <i>think</i> it’s the truth.”</p>
<p>Richie swallowed and nodded. He felt a little like he wanted to cry, but pressed the urge down. He wasn’t sad, not at all. In fact, 1990 was, as strange as it sounded, the happiest year he’d had in ages. Derry had been bad. There was no denying that. But in the end, it had been alright. He personally thought the nightmares and all were worth it. Maybe no one else would agree but that was alright. Maybe no one would do it again, all over, knowing what they knew, so long as it ended the same-- though he was pretty sure they would. Especially Ben and Bev. Ben had joked with him, about childhood crushes one evening over the phone. </p>
<p>“It was hell wasn’t it,” Ben had said, and though Richie couldn’t see him, he had a feeling he was looking at Bev, “But I guess it’s all right in the end.”</p>
<p>And Richie, who had been doing something similar on his end, watching Eddie frown at his Reader’s Digest at the kitchen table agreed, “I guess so.”</p>
<p>Thankfully, they’d never have to. Any of them, so it didn’t quite matter. But it was something he thought about.</p>
<p>“Look,” Eddie tilted his face up, “It’s almost midnight.”</p>
<p>They watched the countdown in silence. On the TV people hugged and kissed, and confetti fell. The newscaster wished everyone a happy and healthy 1991. He was sure his neighbors were hugging, were kissing, and toasting, and wishing the same. Across the country so were the others, hopeful for a brighter year. </p>
<p>Eddie kissed him, gently, and then pulled away with a smile. </p>
<p>“Happy New Year,” he whispered, pressing their foreheads together. </p>
<p>Richie shut his eyes, “Happy New Year.”</p>
<p>“This year is going to be kinder to us,” Eddie said firmly. In a tone that made Richie at least start to believe it. Kind was a strange word. Soft and hopeful. Time wasn’t kind, not really. Time didn’t care about you, but people did. 1991 had to be kinder because Eddie would be there start to finish. That <i>had</i> to count for something.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>number 15! whew!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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